abrightboy | No One's Born Broken

Winona rolled her eyes as she pushed her bangs back again. "I need a drink. Do you have whiskey? Anything stronger than beer?"

Raylan lifted his eyebrows and started towards the kitchen. He knew this wasn't over.

She continued with a breath, putting her hand back on her hips as she looked back at Malcolm. "You get to have a choice in this; I don't. And once Raylan gets over whatever this.. Late life crisis is, we've still got to live with it."

From the kitchen, Raylan sounded warningly. "Winona."

She only glanced at him. "Who are you to tell me how I react to anything, anyway? Some man I don't know comin' in and talking about our future issues with schools."

"Did Raylan get to have a 'choice' in it when you left him for someone else or did you maybe cheat on him, instead? I think in the spectrum of hurtful choices people made without consulting each other, you're in one of those glass houses with a pocket full of rocks," Malcolm informed her matter-of-factly. "I would strongly suggest watching where you're throwing them. If you were super worried about the integrity of your nuclear family for private school interviews, you and he would still be married."

Winona scoffed, looking a little bit like she'd been slapped, but much like her ex-husband, a twist of humor helped her get through it. "Did you know that the divorce rate has been up all over the country for the past ten years?" She asked with one finger turned upside down at him with a slight squint of her eye. "With the divorce rate the way it is, hell that's half of Kentucky."

Raylan came back to Malcolm's side, empty handed.

"Stop it," Raylan said with a little lift of his eyebrows. "You've been driving for a good number of hours. Go get a hotel room. Get some sleep. Figure it out. We can talk tomorrow."

"And if you want to spend the evening doing the reading on the relative value of various sins to bring to your mother, I think you'll find - between adultery and a man laying with another man - only one of those breaks the Ten Commandments," Malcolm added. "But there's usually a Bible in the drawer beside a hotel bed, if you want to check. However," he continued, stepping towards her, "if you just want to be a decent person towards someone who's always been there to help you out when you've needed it, maybe sleep on that concept instead," he advised sagely.

Winona had started to open her mouth to argue with Raylan before Malcolm spoke up, and she blinked before turning on her heels and snatching up her purse, storming out with a slam of the door hard enough to startle Willa.

Raylan sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, one hand coming around on Malcolm's waist as he passed him by to go and gently collect Willa out of her carseat.

"That coulda gone worse," he said with a resigned tone. At least she left Willa. "Though I don't suppose there was any version of this first meeting that ended in anything but."

Malcolm trailed behind him, glancing over his shoulder at the door before looking at Raylan.

"She's not going to tell you that you should dump me. Not outright. She's going to try to make you feel so ashamed of being with me that you'll want out of this relationship on your own."

Bouncing Willa rhythmically, Raylan patted her back in time, shhing softly between his words.

"Trust me. She's got nothin' on what Arlo used to do to me." He held out one hand for Malcolm to come close enough for him to wrap an arm around him too. "And I doubt she's gonna get much further than she did about me leaving the Marshal's Service. It'll be okay, she'll calm down. She's just.. surprised by it, that's all."

Well, no, it wasn't all, but Raylan knew they were flawed.

Malcolm went more than willingly into that beckoning arm. He needed the reassurance. It wasn't surprise in Winona's eyes; she felt like Raylan had betrayed her somehow. Like his choice to be with Malcolm was a personal slight to her. But not for any of the reasons she'd said. That was smoke.

Malcolm was concerned. But also charmed by Raylan's seeming ease with fatherhood and his next words sounded distracted as he peered at the baby as his own hand clung to Raylan's shoulder.

"Raylan, there's no stigma attached to being in the Marshals. She knew what she was saying, pointing out the social stigma here around being with me." He lifted a finger and touched the baby's fat little hand ever so gently. "Shame is a powerful emotion. Don't underestimate this ploy; you have to be prepared for it."

There was just as much comfort to be found in Malcolm's acceptance of the gesture, and Raylan hummed softly as Willa finally lifted her head and looked at the pair of them with big impossibly hazel eyes. Raylan couldn't help but smile a little at the little tap of Malcolm's finger against Willa, who took it with a blink and look down at her hand before settling her little head down to stare at Malcolm from across Raylan's shoulders.

"Darlin', I'd take all the shame of the south on me if I had to, so long as I get to keep livin' life with you," he said softly. "But I'm not. Ashamed that is." He turned his head a little to look down at him.

"I love you. And nothing she could say will change that."

Malcolm's eyes moved from the baby's face to look up at him with palpable relief. The hand grasping the back of his shoulder tightened in the fabric of his shirt a little bit.

"It's subtle, what she's trying to do," he whispered. "And I don't want you to get hurt. What if she tells your boss? Or his boss?"

"It's my experience in life that everything will get you hurt, one way or another," he replied, rubbing his hand up and down the short reach of Malcolm's side. "If she does that, then I guess I might be outta a job. Maybe I'll.. tend bar or something. Open a restaurant. Whatever I have to."

He wasn't giving this, Malcolm, up.

"Don't know that I've got any other marketable skills, but.." He gave Malcolm a smile. "The place looks great, by the way."

Malcolm's expression warmed.

"If you get fired, we'll open a detective agency," Malcolm said. "Specialize in finding missing people." He gestured around. "Can I give you the tour?"

Raylan grinned. "I'll have to replace my hat for that," he teased before nodding towards the apartment in invitation. "I hear there's something to see on the terrace too but I promise I won't sneak a peek til you're ready."

Malcolm laughed. "You definitely cannot change your hat," he said firmly, but through a grin. He nodded over to the sofa, which was as big a sectional as would fit in the area in a dark grey fabric. "So, if you notice, whether you sit or lay on the couch, your back isn't to the door..."

He slipped out of Raylan's grasp to stand between the sofa and the television. "This TV has a sports package so you can watch any baseball game when they're on. Or any other sport. If you want. Um..." He moved into the kitchen. "I got food..." he said gesturing around. "If you're hungry. Like. Actual food." He opened a few cupboards. "Dishes... I got some coffee blends to get us started on that...." He set a french press on the counter that divided the kitchen and livingroom. "Annnnd a toaster oven.... microwave.... normal toaster....." He slipped out from behind the counter gesturing to the opposite wall. "Bookshelf. The bottom shelf is all children's books. I got the ones the lady in the bookstore said were the most popular as well as her personal favourites. She was a big Dr Seuss fan." If Raylan looked, the books they discussed after the shower the previous night filled one of the other shelves. He pushed open the bedroom door. "Look, I installed the restraints myself with that hole-drilling skill you taught me... I put the one in the middle... it should be more comfortable for you and is very unlikely to strangle me in my sleep." He gave it a yank. "See? It's at an angle." In the corner of the room was a small sitting area with a plush chair and small table and a throw blanket. On the other side was a large eight drawer dresser next to the closet. He slipped past Raylan and Willa back out into the main room. "I got a chair for Willa, so she can join us at the table," he said, gesturing to the dining table by the big bank of windows. He looked at Raylan. "Okay," he said, taking a breath then leading them out onto the terrace.

There was a wicker patio set there, with a glass-topped coffee table, a two seat sofa with plush outdoor cushions and an additional chair at 90 degrees to it. The sofa faced west. Just past it, at the other end of the terrace was a small bar-b-que. Malcolm pulled the cover off with a flourish and looked at Raylan.

He lifted his eyebrows over his bold grin at the thoughtful placement of the couch and followed Malcolm through the apartment, eyeing each of the pieces his attention was brought to before moving onto the next. The extent that Malcolm had taken it all too was impressive and also exactly sort of what he expected from his enthused partner.

"That mean there's a drill around that we gotta secure," he asked, still grinning, but now proudly.

Following back out into the main room, he smiled at the chair and pointed at it while murmuring at Willa. "See that? That's yours."

The okay was ominous and Raylan tried to look appropriately prepared with a little pull of his smile before following Malcolm out. He took in the seating with another lift of his features, but the bbq earned an actual look of surprise before Raylan let out a low whistle.

"Wow. You.. you really thought of everything, didn't you?" He asked as he came over to inspect the grill, lifting the lid to see the layout and upper grill that hinged as a second, smaller level. Raylan looked over, still smiling. "You know I'm gonna have to use this tomorrow, right? We can even do chicken, however you like it."

"It really does look great," he said, stepping forward with his free hand to pull Malcolm into a soft, brief kiss. "How about I get my beer and we try out the seats and the view?"

"I gave the drill back to the installers," he promised.

Malcolm followed him back inside and poured himself a couple fingers of scotch as Raylan retrieved his beer, then followed him back outside, toeing his shoes off to pull his feet up onto the sofa as he leaned against Raylan's side. His eyes wandered back to the baby.

"Willa is a pretty name," he noted softly wiggling his finger at her hand. "How did you choose it?"

"Lucky us."

Thinking better of it as he walked inside, Raylan collected both his bottle and the one that Winona had abandoned in her fury, bending oddly to the side to manage to reach the second before walking back out and sitting down with a grunt. Setting one beer down on the coffee table, Raylan sat back with a sigh and a smile as Malcolm joined him.

Being barefoot sounded like a good idea and Raylan worked on toeing off his boots as he answered, starting with a hum. "Winona chose it. It's a family name, one of her grandmothers. Willa Givens," he echoed, bouncing her a little with a smile. "Fits together, I think. A blend of her and I both.." He looked over.

"You wanna hold her?"

Malcolm sat up, his eyes widening a little.

"... I can hold her?"

He set his glass on the table to free both hands and looked at her, then at Raylan. "It's really okay?"

Raylan huffed a little chuckle at the way Malcolm reacted and leaned his baby bearing shoulder towards him.

"I think you know the rules with babies right? Don't drop 'em, no drinking and definitely no child labor.. Til she's at least eight," he said jokingly with a grin.

Malcolm laughed in delight and took her carefully, supporting her head against his upper arm as he cradled her in his elbow, steadying her with his other hand. He looked at Raylan. "Where do exciting classic stories about pirates and revenge fall in there?" he asked with a grin. "Maybe we'll start with the Dr Seuss and this series they sold me about a turtle named Franklin and work our way up to Dumas," he conceded, looking down into her face.

"Hello," he murmured, bouncing her slightly. "It's very nice to meet you."

Shifting a little, beer getting transferred into his off hand, Raylan put his other arm behind Malcolm's shoulders on the couch as he watched the interaction. Willa took the hand off well, only forcing out one half cried, half grunted note of protest as she arched but she got caught up in his face as he spoke to her, like little eyes do.

"Dr Seuss is probably the better place to start," Raylan said with a smile. "Let's leave the pirates and revenge for six years old."

In the back of his head, Raylan couldn't help but think about the Givens family feud and how revenge kind of haunted them all. But he wasn't going to let that stop him from enjoying this brief, perfect moment of peace.

"Cute little stinker, ain't she." Raylan looked out over their view and smiled a bit more broadly as he took another pull from his beer.

"You're right about the view," he said idly, softly. "How long do you get to stay for again?"

"I don't know yet," Malcolm said. His eyes lingered on the baby's face for a moment and then he looked at Raylan. "My father is still in the hospital. I think everyone wants me away from that right now anyway." He looked down at Willa. "And I'd rather be here."

He considered her a moment, then looked at Raylan. "She's really warm," he remarked with wonder. He watched her face. "I wonder what it's like not to have any baggage at all."

Raylan moved his arms to lay across Malcolm's shoulders properly, like it's weight could protect Malcolm from having to go back at all. Without doubt, without argument, Raylan would rather him be here too, especially when he got to having that look on his face.

"Wait til you feel her after she's been asleep," he replied, looking down at her perfect little face before looking over at Malcolm's profile. "Do you remember what it was like before everything with your father fell apart? I hope it's like that."

Malcolm sounded like he was happy, before he really learned what his father was.

Malcolm smiled faintly. "Except real," he concurred.

He looked at Raylan suddenly as a thought occurred to him. "You don't think Winona is going to... look me up or something, do you? Because she knows people in the justice department and if she looks for dirt on me... well, she wouldn't have to dig deep or hard. 'Oh, look, fired from the FBI. Oh, look, son of an infamous murderer. Oh, look, history of serious mental illness...'" He pressed his lips together. "I'm a liability."

That? That was the baggage talking. Raylan squeezed his hand around Malcolm's shoulder gently before rubbing up and down a little.

"Civilians can't look people up using our systems and I very highly doubt anyone in my office is gonna help her spy on a Deputy US Marshal or the people I deal with, no matter what kinda dealin' that is." He shook his head.

"She'd be too afraid of gettin' caught herself. That's why she normally has me run that kinda stuff." And since her favorite tool was directly against it, Raylan wasn't too worried. "I'd like to think she's not that kinda vindictive. Besides. Statue of limitations on her actual theft which I am not telling you about, still isn't up."

He could play dirty if he was forced to.

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I've just decided Willa's middle name is Frances

AS IT SHOULD BE.

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